


Mother Knows Rest

by AstroGirl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, parental anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroGirl/pseuds/AstroGirl
Summary: Sometimes you just have to check that everything's still all right.





	Mother Knows Rest

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Gen Prompt Bingo, for the prompt "The Early Hours before Dawn." I hereby apologize to everyone for the title.

Something wakes her.

She does not know what, but it is almost certainly nothing. A barking dog, or a random creaking in the house. A gust of wind, or Sans stirring next to her in his sleep, or Papyrus rising extra-early for a pre-dawn jog.

She does not need to go and check. It was not the sound of her child crying for help, or of the front door shutting behind them as they leave, or of a window shattering to admit an intruder.

She does not need to check. It is – she turns her head to look at the clock by the bedside – nearly two hours yet until morning. She needs her sleep. She has many things to do tomorrow. Or, rather, today. She has class presentations to attend to, an exam to write. A meeting with Asgore in the evening, and those are often so taxing to her energy and patience. She needs to go back to sleep.

But even as she tells herself these things, she is already sliding silently out of bed and walking towards the door.

The house is quiet, as it ought to be. Frisk's door is slightly ajar, as usual, and Toriel pushes it open far enough to let her through. Enough light spills down the hall from the too-bright clock in the kitchen that Toriel can see the shape of the child on the bed, solid and real, one pale hand flung out across the covers. But, of course, that means nothing. Humans don't dust when they die, and the child is so very still...

Toriel holds her breath as she crosses the room, until she can see Frisk's small chest rising and falling. Her shoulders slump in relief and exhaustion. It's all right. She is being foolish. Again. 

When she finally feels able to take her eyes from the child's sleeping body, she tiptoes out and almost-shuts the door behind her. And then, at the next door in the hallway, she hesitates. Papyrus is an adult, however charmingly childlike his behavior might sometimes be. She is not his mother. He does not need her to look in on him.

Slowly, she unlatches the door and peeks in. There he is, his lanky form sprawled beneath the covers, the tassel of a nightcap flopped across his skull, and one of his action figures cuddled against his ribs. He is fine. He is safe. Her family is safe. _Everyone_ is safe.

Toriel shuts the door and listens at it for a moment, to make sure she hasn't wakened him. She knows Papyrus is a light sleeper, but it seems he is less easily disturbed than she is, today. But then, he never seems to wake up afraid of anything other than the possibility that he is missing something by being asleep. She envies him that, a little.

Well. She should try to go back to sleep. She does not believe she will be successful, but she should try. Wearily, she returns to her bed, trying to slide back between the sheets as quietly as she left.

"hey."

Not quietly enough, it seems. Now her foolishness has woken Sans, as well. She feels a stab of guilt. He takes such _pleasure_ in his sleeping. She always hates to disturb him.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she whispers, turning to face him. 

"what time is it?" His voice is calm, a normal sleepy-Sans voice. Despite her guilt, she finds it rather soothing.

"Early," she says. "Please, go back to sleep."

But instead he sits up, the lights in his eyesockets brightening as he studies her face. "checking on the kid again?" he says, quietly.

She sighs. "Yes. They are fine. They are always fine. I do not know why I keep feeling the need to... to..."

"'course you do," he says. She is not sure whether he means that of course she feels the need, or of course she knows, but either way there is neither judgment nor irritation in his voice, and she is glad of that. "you look in on pap, too?"

She smiles. "Yes. He is also fine."

"good. " He is quiet for a moment, then says, "you're not the only one who worries about losing them, y'know."

"Yes, but you do not feel compelled to get up and wander the house in the middle of the night to make certain." She sits up, too, now, leaning against the headboard next to him.

He shrugs, then slides an arm into the gap between the headboard and the small of her back, and she marvels, not for the first time, at how something so thin and small can feel so strong and good around her. "only because i don't believe it would do any good. well, that and because it would involve getting out of bed." He laughs, a low, self-deprecating chuckle.

She ought to make a joke of her own here, but she's too tired. Or too wound-up. Or too _something_. So instead, she slides down a little in the bed, until she can lean over and rest her head against his skull. "I am still sorry for waking you."

"eh, i can always sleep later. you know me." He glances over at the clock. "you wanna go up on the roof and watch the sun rise?"

She lifts her head from his skull and tilts it at him, surprised. Sans does like to lie on the roof and stargaze. Sometimes she and Frisk and Papyrus join him, eating star-shaped cookies while he points out the surface world's strange new constellations. But sunrise is hardly his time of day.

"if you don't think you're gonna be able get back to sleep," he adds.

She doesn't. "Sunrise is not for a little while, still," she says.

"i know. but till then, there's stars." He winks at her. "whaddaya say? does it get a rise out of you? does it sound sun-sational?"

She laughs. She cannot help it. "Yes," she says, "but I am star-tled by the offer."

"heh. good one." He's giving her his usual pun-appreciating grin, but after a moment it fades, and something in his face – she's never quite understood what – shifts into a quieter, more serious expression, and the lights in his eyes grow oddly distant. "i like to check things sometimes, too," he says. "watch the stars move, watch the sun. make sure tomorrow's really coming, and we're all still really here. guess that's pretty much the same thing, right? so, hey, i won't mind you waking me up to go and check on the kid, if you don't mind helping me check on the sun. deal?"

She puts her arms around him and hugs him tightly. "Deal," she says.

"great. hang on, then. i know a shortcut to the roof."

And just like that, they're there, on the roof, beneath the stars. They lie down side by side, not speaking, and take each other's hand. Everything is quiet and peaceful here. Everything is all right.

She drowses off for a moment, her fingers still entwined in his, and when she wakes again, the sun is rising, and they are all still here.


End file.
